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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25008319">Existentialism on Prom Night</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/easyluckyfree45/pseuds/easyluckyfree45'>easyluckyfree45</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Archie Comics, Archie Comics &amp; Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Feels, Break Up, Canon Compliant, F/M, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Prom, Short One Shot, Vignette, angsty one shot, post 4x19, this is literally 1K of angst so if that's not your thing this is not for you</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:21:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>999</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25008319</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/easyluckyfree45/pseuds/easyluckyfree45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He stares at her, expecting her to say something but she says nothing. She hasn’t found the right words yet. She’s considered them for two long weeks. She’s tried them, rolling and smoothing each word out against her tongue, trying to find the right ones.  Nothing justifies this. Nothing makes this okay. They all leave a bitter taste.</p><p> </p><p>  <b>Prom night post 4x19 - Jughead finds out the truth.</b></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Betty Cooper &amp; Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Existentialism on Prom Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Does anyone else remember this song? No, just me? This came up on my Daily Mix and I forgot how much this song represented pretty much the entirety of my angsty teenage years. It’s so fitting for Season 5 and what I expect prom night will be like for my favorite characters. Buckle up. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Existentialism: a philosophical approach which emphasizes the existence of the individual person as a free and responsible agent determining their own development through acts of the will</b>
</p><p><i>There are moments when I know it ends</i><br/>
<i>And the world revolves around us</i><br/>
<i>And we’re keeping it all going, this delicate balance</i><br/>
<i>Vulnerable, all knowing</i><br/>
<i>Sing me something soft, sad and delicate</i><br/>
<i>Or loud and out of key</i><br/>
<i>Sing me anything</i></p><p>	<i>“Existentialism on Prom Night” by Straylight Run</i></p><p>
  <b>You would kill for this, just a little bit, you would</b>
</p><p>The corsage on her wrist is made up of a blood red rose and white baby’s breath. She supposes it’s sadistically fitting. After all, baby’s breath is supposed to symbolize purity, sincerity and trust. It’s all so bitterly ironic that the flowers she wears on her wrist represents the exact opposite of how she feels, how she truly is.</p><p>Betty Cooper is not pure nor sincere nor trustworthy. She’s a liar and a cheater and a fake. Beneath that pretty pink facade is someone that was willing to throw it all away for a childhood fantasy and crush.</p><p>It’s their last prom. </p><p>She wants to think of all the stereotypical things one says at the event that symbolizes the conclusion of their high school career: it’s the end of an era, these are the best years of your life, you’ll never feel this alive again. She doesn’t think of any of those things.</p><p>Instead, dressed in a beautiful navy blue sweetheart neckline silk gown, she thinks about something that happened two weeks ago. She thinks about the way Archie’s lips felt against hers and the heat of his hand while he held hers in the bunker while they lay atop that lumpy mattress. She thinks about what it felt like when Jughead came to her that night with his finished essay, kissing her sweetly. She thinks about the uncontrollable tears and sobs afterwards.</p><p>She thinks about how this is all pointless. This is a sham. Her dress is just a beautiful ornament that hides the lies beneath. </p><p>She’s going to tell him tonight. She’s pretended these last two weeks - like they were okay, like they were still desperately in love, like she didn’t kiss his best friend, like she’s not going to break his heart. She’s planned it out in her head. They would attend prom and then as he holds her for their last slow dance, she would tell him.</p><p>She didn’t plan for Archie planning the same. She didn’t plan for Veronica storming up to her and Jughead while they were dancing and slapping her clear across the face. She didn’t plan for Archie to yell after Veronica, his words unintelligible to her numb ears. She thinks she hears “Ronnie, love you, Betty, kiss.”</p><p>She knows Jughead heard clearly whatever Archie had actually said because now he stands before her, horror and betrayal in his radiant blue eyes.</p><p>Her first instinct is to reach for him but he immediately pulls away, as if her touch would violate him.</p><p>“Is it true?”</p><p>She can’t answer him because it would hurt him so, so much. </p><p>“Is it true?” The question is repeated. She still can’t answer it. She manages a weak nod of her head.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>She doesn’t have a reason. She never had a reason. It was an unreasonable action. </p><p>“You’re not going to say anything?” </p><p>“I’m sorry, Jug. I love you.”</p><p>“No, you don’t get to say those words to me anymore. They mean nothing to you anyway.”</p><p>When he leaves, she wonders if she should go after him. Her feet move before her brain can process what’s happening. Suddenly, she’s running out of the school gymnasium and down the hallway where she sees him walking away briskly. She latches onto his arm and with all the might and power left within her, tugs him back so he would stop walking and stay. She needs him to stay.</p><p>He wrenches his sleeve away from her and she almost tumbles back. He’s never done this before - be harsh and ungentle. The dissonance is jarring. He’s never like this towards her. It causes her ears to ring and her vision to blur. Her face feels wet and she realizes that she’s actively crying, the tears streaming down her face like an endless torrent. Vaguely, she finds that it’s hard to breathe and she thinks this is what it means to experience gut-wrenching, body-wracking sobs. </p><p>It’s painful. And, not just emotionally. It’s physically painful to do this.</p><p>He stares at her, expecting her to say something but she says nothing. She hasn’t found the right words yet. She’s considered them for two long weeks. She’s tried them, rolling and smoothing each word out against her tongue, trying to find the right ones.  Nothing justifies this. Nothing makes this okay. They all leave a bitter taste.</p><p>He stands there, illuminated in low-light, in a form-fitting black suit, looking the most handsome that she’s ever seen him. She wants to go to him, touch him, kiss him, force him to be with her. But, she can’t do any of those things.</p><p>Instead, she just stares at him and wills him to meet her eyes but he doesn’t. His gaze is focused on the ground.</p><p>“I never meant to hurt you, Jug. I love you.”</p><p>Are these the right words? She thinks they’re not because it doesn’t fix this. But, can any words fix this?</p><p>“Is that it? Are you done?”</p><p>She wonders if he is purposefully trying to hurt her. His tone cuts through her and it feels like he’s taken a knife and stabbed it into her shoulder, twisting every few seconds to ensure that the pain is still there, resonating, and that she still feels it.</p><p>He can’t look at her. It twists. His hand twitches and he walks away. It twists more.</p><p>It was so easy to hurt him. She thinks it should’ve been harder. But, she did it with one kiss.</p>
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